Stranger in a strange land
by Roo1965
Summary: As Sheppard recovers from a mission gone bad, John wonders if it's him, the drugs or if something really is wrong with his team and everyone else on Atlantis. set Phantoms 3.9, before Irresponsible 3.13, mention of 2.17 Coup D'état.ShepHC LJ summerfic


Stranger in a Strange world

Written for** drufan** for the **sheppard_hc** LJ Summer Fic Exchange 2011  
>Rating: PG13- Gen<br>Warning: h/c, implied torture, violence

Set after Phantoms 3.9 but before Irresponsible 3.13, mention of 2.17 Coup D'état  
>Word Count: 7,000<br>Summary: As Sheppard recovers from a mission gone bad, John wonders if it's him, the drugs or if something really is wrong with his team and everyone else on Atlantis. Prompt at end

0o0o0

_Cold water shocked him back into consciousness. The guard left, trailing the empty metal bucket noisily along the bars as he left. Each loud clang made him grit his teeth as he shivered hard. John hurt all over. He had no idea what the time was, the guards had taken his watch as well as his socks, boots and TAC vest. His body was locked tight with cold shivers. Clumsily he tried to rub warmth into his bare arms and feet, but he was bruised and sore and he was pretty sure he'd broken left arm so he didn't accomplish much. He worried about Ronon, yeah he was fit but mining was hard labour. And Rodney and Teyla, he was scared for them, he trusted Rodney to fix the whatever in the next community, but what if...? _

_He didn't want to think negative thoughts. But he couldn't help it. He was a lot tired and a bit busted . He'd had worse days- freaky bugs, Kolya, wraith and shooting most of his team whilst hallucinating trying to outrun the Taliban with Holland in Afghanistan. _

_He'd make it through. He had to. The wall sconces were kept lit, sending flickering shadows and light across the white bare walls and a faint resin odour throughout. There were no windows. Maybe tomorrow- whenever that was- would be better because this one was doomed from the moment he woke up._

The day went wrong from the start.

Little things that normally he would have laughed over and forgotten. Somehow today, he just _knew_ it was a bad day, things were going to happen that no-one could stop. It was _stupid_ and Rodney could quote statistics at him in proof of non validation of superstition. He'd rant that John was far too logical and modern to believe in any of that silly stuff, and then he'd sniff and carry on doing five things at once. And then he'd probably tease John for months afterwards about it. No, not worth the breath to even mention it to him.

Of course John had overslept (since when had his watch and clock ever failed an alarm?) and was running late (with no time for a morning run with Ronon), had a minor slip in the bathroom and when he flung an arm out he bashed the mirror, cracking a tiny corner. _Seven years bad luck right there... a damaged and broken soul..._

So he dressed putting his left leg in first before his right when pulling his pants on and slipping feet into shoes in that order too, '_keeping the evil forces at bay'_, muttered a huffy imaginary Rodney. Because... well he'd had _routines_ back in the day in the Air Force. Lucky coins, pictures, sayings and almost OCD routines that kept frazzled pilots flying in the face of danger. _If I do x before event b then z = survival outcome_. And it had worked...mostly. And he wasn't going to analyse it too closely, because that way madness lurked. And Rodney- both real and imaginary versions.

Reaching the mess hall, he found that Rodney and the others were almost through with breakfast. John got the bottom of the pan oatmeal and it tasted burnt. Of course it did. He gave up. At least the coffee was okay, he mused staring into his cup.

"What's up with you? You look like someone drew a moustache on your Johnny Cash poster and stole your iPod with a bazillion dreary country music songs!"

John glared at him. He did not want to get into a knock out discussion with Rodney about superstition like he'd imagined in the bathroom earlier. It wasn't something he could put into words exactly. _A feeling. A hunch. A ghostly step over a grave. _But too often his feelings or hunches had been proved right...

"Nothing. Just running late this morning that's all." He could feel the assessing gazes of Teyla and Ronon sweep over him as he swallowed the last of his coffee.

"Okay that's me done. See you in Weir's office in 20 minutes?" He stood up and bussed his tray and left, wanting to check his vest and Intel before the pre mission briefing. Routine. Safe. Reliable.

He liked routines-like Weir saying "Be safe and we'll see you back here soon," every time they departed through the Gate. Only today she didn't say it. Of course not. That's the kind of day it was. Not that she didn't _not_ say it to jinx them exactly- it just felt that way to John. His feet stuck to the Gate room floor, Rodney pushing past him as he turned back to catch Weir's eye. But it was too late; some frazzled scientist had pulled her away from the landing and no amount of John's mental litany of _say it, say it, say it _worked.

Dammit.

"Sheppard?" queried Ronon, his eyes darting around looking for the reason for Sheppard's delay.

"It's fine. I'm coming." He straightened his spine like a good little pilot and strode through the blue puddle like he didn't want mom's approval before going out to play with his friends. His stomach rumbled a little, reminding him of his non-existent breakfast. Why was life so difficult?

It was the girl in the bar that got them noticed. The plan was to re-connect with a trading and small mining community on P12-349 that Teyla had known a long time ago, and had finally made it to the top of their To-Do- list. Intel of course would be good, just keeping an eye on who was where and news of things happening or not happening.

The planet was typical of many they came across, plenty of grass and trees and birds. And hills. And minerals in the hills, that were mined. Other parts of the valley had orchards of fruit trees in abundance, but it didn't look that way now, to Teyla's horror. They had come in the hope of trading for fresh fruits, cider and other jar and bottled by products that Teyla remembered from her childhood.

"I cannot believe how this has been left to ruin. I don't understand- Hufton would never have let this happen. Such a waste."

"Maybe they've lost too many people from Wraith or wars or illness." Ronon suggested.

"Maybe something's gone wrong with the soil or water supply," Rodney added.

"All the more reason we should help them out if we can. Be a shame to miss out on fruits and cider or relish to go on turkey sandwiches." John said, but he too was uneasy at the dereliction and slightly dead feel to the place.

As they topped the rise that led down to the town, they stopped.

"Oh," said Teyla, shocked.

"Whoa," gasped Rodney as they eyed the dirty scar of the mine and run down look of town and market place.

"It's..."

"Different? Horrible? Deadly?" suggested Rodney.

" Much bigger, than I remembered. The mine was very small and the orchards were the main trade..." she said obviously unhappy at the change in situation.

Without saying anything the team drew close together, keeping an eye out for potential external danger. While they were in the market and figuring out what was where, the kind of goods on sale and who to make contact with, John could feel hidden eyes watching them. Teyla and Ronon tensed beside and ahead of him. He kept a check on Rodney. In close quarters anyone could stick a knife somewhere vital and disappear, or pull you into a narrow alleyway.

They found a bar and had some bitter apple drink, that could have been cider or alcoholic if they'd bothered a bit more or maybe had better apples. Surely by now they had been noticed as new arrivals by their attire and weaponry. The natives looked tired, dirty and not all of them were well. Coalmining however small-scale was hard on the body, dirty and bad for the lungs. John was surprised Rodney hadn't made a face mask already.

"Where have you come from?" John chided himself for drifting into reverie as a young woman appeared by their table.

"We're from a long way away," John replied warily. "My name's Sheppard, John Sheppard and these are my friends."

"Have you come from Alegarve? Have you seen my brother Tomas?" she asked urgently, looking nervous.

The barkeep butted in " Jain, go away and stop bothering the customers. Pay her no mind. She asks everyone that. He never came back because he wanted to get away from this cursed place and work in clean air. He was ill, Rebus gave him that chance and she can't get over it."

Ronon moved to look out of the window and check the exits.

"No! I've talked to many others- they go away and never come back! Even if they got better, why don't they visit? You must help me! Please!"

"Sheppard," warned Ronon, "Men coming." John nodded- he'd noticed a thin furtive man slip out of the door a short while ago as well. He stood up, his hand automatically resting on his P90.

"May I ask if you know a man named Hufton? I knew him many years ago." Teyla asked quickly. "Where is this Alegarve? "

Jain looked scared and ran straight into the man blocking the door. He grabbed her roughly.

"You need not concern yourself with this one's fixation," said a voice from the doorway . " Jain, this pestering must stop. Rebus will deal with you."

"No, please! I'll be good. I won't..."

"Hey, let her go!" shouted John. The man produced a crude gun and held it at her side.

" I think you will all come with me and my men to Rebus. He gets annoyed if things don't go his way. Oh, and as for Hufton- he died. Rebus is in charge now."

With men at the exits and Teyla's man dead, this did not look good.

A short time later and John had moved on from being merely grumpy to being severely pissed off. It was that kind of a day. Big muscular hands with an iron grip held him and his team fast. He reeled from the back handed blow Rebus just given. His cheekbone throbbed and his nose gushed blood. He spat blood out aiming for Rebus's boots. Just because he could and smiled.

Ronon, Teyla and Rodney all yelled. John sucked up the pain and lifted his head to stare into his eyes challenging him to make the next move.

Yet another fallout from the Genii wanted posters of himself and McKay still slowly circulating around the Pegasus Galaxy. Ladon had said they'd recalled or destroyed what they could, but still the things appeared more than a year later. Maybe someone was hoarding them -hell he didn't know. Money, information, weapons, people- all were up for grabs. In their case literally.

Although Sheppard and his team had better weapons than their escorts, John was unwilling to risk a bloodbath in the bar and escalate to all out war or something. They'd been forced to give up their weapons.

Surrounded by men with clubs and guns, Teyla and Ronon and John struggled against their captors, kicking and maiming where they could -until someone fired a gun.

Not only did this halt the ongoing fracas, but the crude weapon had misfired, leaving the would-be thug with a mangled hand, screaming in agony.

If they had been in any doubt about the brutish nature of their captors, it was revealed now. Rebus's second in command calmly shot the wounded man. No hesitation, no messing.

"Hey, there was no need for that!" Rodney shouted and then paled as a gun was turned on him.

"Rodney, don't piss him off!" John growled, worried for his team-mate. He got in line with the others. Jain had been forced along too.

They arrived at a bigger building away from the mine entrance and market place. Rebus's second went into the hall with their weapons and vests and Jain. The team could hear yelling and then Jain pleading and then silence. Teyla looked worriedly at John ad Ronon.

The door opened and they were pushed in. Rebus, a tall muscular built man in dark and tan cloth and leather trousers, like his second, stood at table sorting through their weapons, vests and Rodney's LSD. There was no sign of Jain.

" Tell me- what makes you so valuable that people are asked to look out for you specially?" he asked.

"What?" asked Rodney in confusion before John had a chance to tell him not to say anything. John had his eyes on the table.

With a flourish Rebus beckoned one of his lackeys who produced two tatty sheets of paper with images on. The reward posters the Genii had issued trying to accumulate ATA carriers during the coup between Ladon and Cowen.

"This is you," he jabbed at John's chest "and you..." he said pointing at Rodney. "Explain!"

"I don't think so," John muttered, and that's when he got back handed.

His cheekbone throbbed and his nose gushed blood. He shook his head and spat out blood, aiming for Rebus's boots. Just because he could and smiled. "It's old news. Not worth the paper it's printed on, Rebus."

"Of course you'd say that. We shall find out what I can get for you two from these Genii. As for you," he said gesturing to Teyla and Ronon "I am sure I can find a use for you elsewhere. Where are you from?"

No-one replied. He walked up to Teyla and grabbed her roughly by the face and squeezed. John Rodney and Ronon all struggled against their captors, but did not tell him to leave her alone, Teyla could cope and maybe if he saw she was not weak he'd pick on someone else.

"Interesting." he said letting her go. "You- little man what's so special about you? You're plainly no warrior unlike your friends."

"Me?" asked Rodney startled "I'm Canadian."

"And that makes you useful to the others?" Rebus asked dubiously.

"Only when explaining Hockey and when to say 'eh' in conversation,"

John snorted and quick as a flash Rebus spun round and planted a fist in John's gut. His breath rushed out in a wheezy gasp and he sagged in the henchman's grip. As he recovered his breath and looked up again, Rodney was saying

"Hey, stop that! I know stuff! I can build or mend things. I'm a genius, I can…"

"Rodney shut up!" John yelled. "Trust me. Forget about him and take me." John urged.

"Why should I trust you? I don't know you, but apparently you are worth a lot of money, or maybe we can get weapons like yours." Rebus mused looking at John and Rodney.

That thought intrigued him; he went to the table and picked up Ronon's blaster, hefting it in his hand experimentally. He turned and fired it at one of his lone men standing off to one side. The red glow enveloped him and he crumpled to the ground. Rebus knelt and put a hand against his neck. "Not dead," he said surprised and stood up again. He put the stunner back down on the table and picked up John's 9mil and pointed it at John.

"Tell me how long it lasts and if it kills at all," he demanded of the team.

Silence

He gestured to one of his men who punched John in the kidneys. When nothing happened, he fiddled with the safety and repeated his question. Reluctantly Ronon explained the settings as John groaned in pain.

"It's me the Genii want, not Rodney." John repeated. " He's more trouble than it's worth. You'll get a better price for me alone. Rodney'll only piss them off. I have a history with them."

"Sheppard!" "No" shouted his team. They were worried that although they had a sort of truce with Ladon, Kolya was still out there and he could be the one that responded to information about the poster.

"Enough!" Rebus snicked the safety back on and lowered his arm, decision made. "Take this one," he pointed at Ronon "to the mines. He'll last quite a while. If you are so clever as you say McKay, you can mend something for me and take the woman with you. People have tried to mend the machine and failed. If you fail, the lives of your friends will be on your conscience and I will not have lost anything. Sheppard stays here until we can contact these Genii and work out a price."

"Well, how long do I have to fix this whatever?" Rodney asked imperiously.

"As long as it takes. A sevenday? You will come back when you have fixed it and maybe we can negotiate something for your friends."

"What?" protested Rodney, "Look I'll need my tools and backpack at least. I can't fix a machine with just sticks and chewing gum!" The bag was searched and handed over and then they were herded out of the building, Ronon to the mine, Rodney and Teyla out of town.

John had faith that Rodney could fix whatever it was, but he wouldn't put it past this guy to stack the deck. He also didn't think this bunch of bandits had dealt with the Genii and hopefully it would take a while for them to find them. In the meantime check-ins with Atlantis would pass and there were protocols in place for that. So he was confident that he would get out of this with the help of his team and whatever wits he had until then. He'd survived worse things for a week.

These were the things he was thinking as he was led to a cell block with no windows and one entry and exit. The walls were white and the wall lit by resin torches. It wasn't long before the noises began distracting him from keeping calm and he was brought out and not so politely asked about intel in painful and various means, including being stunned by Ronon's gun which he thought unfair.

0o0o

Cold water shocked him back into consciousness. The guard left, trailing the empty metal bucket noisily along the bars as he left. Each loud clang made him grit his teeth as he shivered hard. John hurt all over. He had no idea what the time was, the guards had taken his watch as well as his socks, boots and TAC vest. His body was locked tight with cold shivers. Clumsily he tried to rub warmth into his bare arms and feet, but he was bruised and sore and he was pretty sure he'd broken left arm so he didn't accomplish much.

Rebus wanted to know more about the Genii, about where he was from, about getting more weapons. And John refused to answer or made something up that they'd then go off and check. And all the time he was delaying time hoping Kolya wouldn't hear about him being here. Maybe Atlantis and Ladon were trying to broker a deal and Rebus wasn't saying anything trying to psych him out. Like his no sleep tactics and the roughing up. Not bad enough to kill but enough to cause damage.

He thought it had been a few days but it was difficult to tell with no windows and the white walls. As they weren't feeding him he had no regular mealtimes either. Just guards constantly walking up and down with batons against the metal bars and the off duty ones talking and singing all the time just out of sight. If he dozed off they threw water over him. The chain holding him to the wall meant he couldn't even pace round the cell.

The noise on the bars was pretty much constant apart from a few times when there had been silence. And oddly, that had been worse than the noise. His ears strained for the clanging to start up again. Is head and ears had grown so used to it that he was imagining it when it wasn't there. And then the clanging began again and he wanted to scream, but didn't. He just had to hold on. Rodney would fix the thing. Atlantis would find him and Ronon.

Day six- maybe- and Rebus visiting him in his cell, took delight in telling him how much ore his mine now produced since he took it over in favour of the apple harvests. He got more money that way. Those who went against him ended up in the mine or sent off world. Today he was curious, he'd brought one of the TAC vests, rummaging about in the pockets. Then digging deeper until he pulled out a ceramic plate. He hit it with his knuckles. He put it back in and looked at the vest speculatively again before throwing it to John, who didn't like what he thought was going to happen next.

"Put it on," he ordered and pulled out a gun, one of their crude handguns, not his 9 mil.

John coughed before saying " I'm chained up I can only put part of it on." Saying no was not an option because Rebus would just have got someone to put it on him.

TAC vest partly on and trying to make sure it covered his left side he stood and waited. Either Rebus was playing games and wouldn't shoot or...maybe it would all be over.

The gun went off and he was pushed into the wall, the chain round his left wrist jerking his broken arm as he slid to the floor and adding to the pain round his lower stomach area. Curled into the pain round his ribs he was not aware of anything until Rebus said close to his ear.

"The Genii are coming and your McKay hasn't returned, but then I didn't expect him to. Didn't you know that no-on comes back from Alegarve?"

He lay on the floor, eyes tightly scrunched closed trying to get air back into his lungs from the shock of the bullet. A frantic search found a squashed round in the vest and no blood. Rebus left and John was doused with cold water again. He wasn't asleep, dammit, he was just trying to cope and slowing and shortening his breath each time he breathed because it was too painful otherwise.

He was of course still awake when rescue came in the form of Major Lorne and a rather scruffy manic looking Rodney and Teyla. Lorne blasted the lock and cut the chain but Rodney and Teyla gently lifted him up and helped him out.

To his surprise it was dark, and he was so used to the light in the cell that he had to close his eyes for a bit. Only to jerk awake as they loaded him into a Jumper and back to Atlantis. He wouldn't let them do anything despite the medic's protests until he'd seen Ronon. They were more physically and mentally battered and scruffy than usual but he drank in the grubby frazzled sight of them. Then he let the medic do his stuff.

John woke to crowd noises, people nearby talking and an overlay of some commentary. For the first time since he was rescued he didn't seem to have a team member by his side, keeping an eye on him like he was going to disappear again. Guilt piled up on both sides though, which was going to take a little time to work through. Each thought the other was lost or dead. This time he clung to Ronon, Rodney and Teyla like the lifelines they had become during his slow return to himself.

"_Here's Lillee coming in now to bowl to Botham. A-a-and he cuts this one, that's four, now over the ropes. A lovely one- just back to the point, short outside the off stump...Lillee bowling too short to Botham..."_

He lay still trying to remember where he was and decipher what he'd heard, before daring to move. The squishy couch in the second rec room had him prisoner for now.

_No, not a prisoner any more..._wrong choice of words, he thinks suppressing the shudder the words evoke in his tired feverish mind._ Cold, damp, pain and blood and..._

He blinked back into focus the TV screen on the wall in front of him and tried to makes sense of what he was seeing-the men in white trousers and shirts on a vivid green pitch and the English accents. Just as he tried to summon the energy to dig himself out of the couch pit, he heard a familiar Scottish voice...

"I was a hooker at uni. Best time of my life. In between cutting up cadavers and cramming for exams that is." Beckett sounded happy.

Did he really just hear Beckett say that? John was scared he'd hear something even more compromising and finally managed to sit up and speak. He felt like overdone spaghetti, limp and pale. His various cuts and stitches and the cracked ribs made him stiffen and jerk in increments as he reached vertical.

"Uh, Doc?" he rasped and it turned into several coughs because he was still battling a respiratory infection on top of everything else.

"Oh Colonel! Sorry I got sidetracked talking to Andy." Beckett got up immediately, bottle of water in one hand.

Andy appeared to be engrossed in the…. _whatever_ was on the screen but waved his hand in the air as hello without turning round.

John had asked Carson for a Time Out from the medical bay, feeling restless and in search of normality, or at least a different place and had ended up in one of the rec rooms. He couldn't travel very far or fast and hadn't expected to doze off. Beckett had obviously come in search of his errant patient. Strange, one or all of his team hadn't found him first. Beckett had banned his radio so that he got complete rest and didn't get pulled into Atlantis business unless there was a Hive in orbit.

"Um, what the hell are you guys watching?" he asked, once he'd drunk some of the water.

"Cricket." replied Beckett, standing patiently by him, eyes back on the screen.

The disembodied Yorkshire accented voice of Andy in front of him spoke "Not _just_ cricket, Carson. The 1981 Ashes Third Test at Headingley with Beefy demolishing the Aussies! 149 not out, 27 fours and a six- bloody marvellous!" And went back to the game.

John was none the wiser, maybe when he had more brain cells firing neurons he'd ask again and understand the reply.

"How are you feeling lad?"

"Fine," he said automatically, but he felt hot and sluggish.

"Ye don't look fine, but what do I know I'm only your Doctor. I've just got your latest test results and thought I'd better escort you back. How was your wee nap?"

He shrugged and didn't look Beckett in the eye. Suddenly tired of fighting the inevitable he gave in.

"Okay, let's go." Beckett looked surprised but stuck out a hand to help lever him and his blanket out of the couch's embrace, one handed, his arm still in the sling.

In companiable silence they slowly walked back to the medical bay. John waited until he was changed out of sweaty scrubs into fresh ones , settled back into his bed, , IV with new antibiotics on board, dressings changed, before asking his burning question.

"So Beckett- you didn't really pay your way through college the old fashioned way?"

Beckett looked puzzled "The old fashioned way? I don't…?"

"The oldest profession…" John almost whispered, "hooking," checking for nursing staff lurking nearby. Beckett looked blank, then grinned and laughed out loud, making several staff turn and look at them.

"You thought…? Oh my God! No, no. Nothing like that at all I assure you."

"Care to share the joke Doc?"

"Rugby Union, Colonel. I played rugby at University; my position is called a Hooker. An important member of the team I can assure you. Passing the ball to the scrum half, throwin' the ball at line out's…." Beckett looked wistful before continuing. "Anyway back then we didn't have to pay our way through University, unlike students today. We had local authority grants instead of paying fat tuition fees and running up loans that take forever to pay off."

"Okay, sorry I _really_ didn't meant to imply anything inappropriate, but I was half awake at the time, and I was kinda curious..." John apologised.

"Well, I guess it was a funny misunderstanding. And why should you know anything about Rugby Union- which is different to Rugby League by the way, or cricket for that matter. You all set? Anything you need?"

"No I'm good." And he was, the throbs and aches and chesty blockageswere diminishing under the incoming tide of medication. A funny thought occurred and he huffed a laugh.

"Everything alright Colonel?" asked Beckett softly.

"Yeah, hey maybe you can 'splain rugby and hookers 'n cricket rules to Ronon when we next see'm? Riight? He'll love it..." he slurred sleepily.

"Who's Ronon?"

John's eyes twitched and he tried to speak but he was too far gone down the magic road to La-La Land to respond.

Normally by this stage in John's recovery Beckett would have let him return to his room and checked up on him from time to time. But after P12-349 he seemed to prefer the bustle of the infirmary. His room was too quiet. After the cacophony in the prison he found himself straining for the moment the noise would start. The pattern was random deliberately and sometimes there was no let up all day and night, making it hard to think. Which was the object of the exercise of course. He jerked alert, heart pounding as nurses moved around and opened up a cabinet nearby. He lay awake fighting his body's lethargy and the medications. He didn't like being drugged into oblivion and Beckett had agreed to hold off. He was due for another session with Heightmeyer, he wasn't going to get better overnight he knew that. He had his team heckling from the sidelines already. He was still twitchy. They meant well. He couldn't sleep and forget. He wasn't sure he wanted to as it would demean the loss of life. He shifted off his back, stitches itched and burned and throbbed all at once. He was glad it kept him awake. Rodney came by a few minutes later. Whether by coincidence or Beckett's design he didn't know. He was just grateful for the distraction of a chess game or debating some math problem with Rodney. Even Rodney had his limits though. After Beckett chased him out to his own room, John cracked open War and Peace, he was up to page 67.

When he did sleep he dreamt of quiet and noise and the waiting of the one or the other. Tonight though he dreamt of blood and shouting and fists and the all consuming question of where his team was while he was being punished. They weren't with him. At this point he always woke up panicked, pulling at monitor clips and IV as if they were restraints. The first time it happened he fell out of bed and was trying to crawl to the door to look for his team. The medical staff now knew better, to call them until they appeared by his bed or took to sleeping on the next bed. It was 0335 a good night so far, but then he'd only been back a few days.

He saw Beckett's look of disappointment as he read the night duty notes and saw that John was wide awake at 0630 when he came on duty. John felt bad and wanted to get better. There wasn't much to do but heal physically and have therapy.

"Morning, Colonel,"

"Hi doc."

"Slightly better night I see, but not as good as we were hoping."

"No. Sorry. I feel like I should remember something, but I can't quite get at it. Maybe it'll come to me after breakfast."

"Aye that sounds like a great plan. I'll get a nurse to go."

"No, that's alright Rodney or Teyla or Ronon will be here soon I expect."

Beckett looked at him strangely. "Colonel, Rodney won't be up yet and I don't; know who Teyla or Ronon are. Are you quite sure you're feeling okay? You've only just recovered from that chest infection. Laid you right out it did. You're confused. Rodney didn't want to go with you feeling poorly, but he had to return to that machine."

"Ha,ha nice one Doc, you had me going there. I almost believed you..." John yawned then realised Beckett wasn't laughing. "Crap, did I miss something? A memo or something? Rodney went where?"

"To Alegarve, and he went on his own."

"No, he wouldn't! Teyla and Ronon wouldn't let him not after what they found there! Those abandoned people, left to die by that lunatic Rebus because the DHD was cracked!" John said, his voice getting louder and more raspy as it went.

"Don't get all riled up, you're still recovering."

John ate breakfast but only because he needed the fuel, he wasn't that hungry. He asked everyone he could about Teyla and Ronon. He didn't understand it, why did no-on remember them and he did- clearly? Rodney was real, he was real. Beckett sent Kate to visit, which led to some interesting questions as to why he appeared to be imagining two people. She promised to return with some tests. He couldn't wait.

When Rodney did appear, he didn't remember Ronon and Teyla either which freaked John right out. But he managed to hide it. His friends had disappeared and no one seemed to notice. It was like the day of the Triffids, minus the blindness…and the Triffids but whatever had happened, it wasn't affecting John. Or he was certifiable and being shipped Earthside for a padded room and no one had told him yet. Dad would be so proud. Dave would have to wear a disguise to visit him, so no-one in the company know. God he was rambling. He hated being ill.

He asked Rodney for a laptop and he worked on it, searching the database for clues. He showed pictures with Ronon and Teyla in them but they just weren't being registered by those who saw them.

He realised Rodney wasn't quite the same either. He was actually nice to Zelenka, and ate regularly and went to bed at a normal time. In fact he was not so hyper. Carson was happy about the loss of junk food; Zelenka and others don't remember how he used to be. Rodney had been game to stay up and help John as he tried to get over P12-349 and couldn't sleep wanted to stay awake. And Rodney had need company to get over the bodies and mending the DHD. And he'd found this machine on the planet that he'd wanted to get back to. To be alone was too quiet. John stayed alert, fretful for noise to begin, almost yearn for noise. Only when it came his heart pounded as he then wondered how long it would go on for. Carson was not happy with John's slow healing infections and weight loss.

It had to be that planet , that machine that Rodney and the others went back to check out after they'd repatriated the survivors and buried the dead. Dollars to donuts it was Ancient. It had to be some experiment, nothing else fit. What were they trying to do though? Who knew with the Ancients. Not so much wise as stumbling around in the dark- as Rodney had put it once.

Something had happened on the planet that Rodney didn't remember and somehow it had transferred to everyone here...apart from him. What was different about him? He hadn't been to the planet but then, neither had anyone else. He was stuck in the infirmary with some drugs and bandages. But, Sgt Myers over the way didn't remember Ronon, and he should since he was the one that put him there. No-one was being controlled as far as he could see, so it wasn't like Lucius. Ancient...ATA related? And Rodney's gene was synthetic and his was real and had more mojo...

Could it be that simple? What else? Think John, dammit! He was awake all the time. Not much REM sleep going on. Hadn't SG1 been effected by some substance made them imagine an alien team member. Whatever Rodney had turned on or become infected with it must be pretty contagious, or he'd brought something back and it was in his lab.

It was the end of a long day, trying to work out what might be going on and thinking out how to fix things and eating and the odd short nap. He had to have learned something from Rodney after three and a half years. He worked hard on the computer all day and by night time he was ready.

Rodney would be in bed early, Beckett was semi used to him going for short walks when he couldn't sleep. He slipped out of the infirmary and dressed in his room. Next he visited Rodney's lab and found the round stone as documented in the database, and put it in his pocket. It didn't seem to be emitting anything that he could detect, but still. Then he made his way to the Jumper bay and put in the co-ordinates for Alegarve and hacked into the Gate room so they couldn't stop him.

He pushed past the aches and painful ribs and trying to do things one-handed. He felt lopsided. He hoped Ronon and Teyla were alright. He landed the jumper as close as he could to the ruins of the Ancient base, community whatever it had been. As soon as he went in the door it lit up. He let out a breath. Ronon and Teyla were okay, it looked like they were in stasis pods. But why, he didn't know. He went to a console and pressed his hand and put the stone on the plate and thought _off_ and _reset_ very hard. The lights grew brighter, there was a pulsing noise and something washed over him, but in a good way he hoped.

The pods slid out and opened and after a few minutes the occupants woke up. They were of course surprised to see him.

"John? What are you doing here, you were in the infirmary last we saw of you!" Teyla exclaimed.

"What did Rodney say and do when he got here? That was two days ago by the way!"

"What?"

"I know. Just something happened back on Atlantis. Everyone's alright just a little forgetful of you guys apart from me."

" He thought it might be some Ancient experiment, studying effects of wraith hallucinatory abilities he triggered a virus research station. He didn't know what would happen so he put us in stasis and that's all we know."

"Great. Just once I'd like for them to get it right for once. Why can't we just send the Wraith back to sleep or taste bad to them or something!" John raged kicking at a wall and nearly falling over.

"Come on let's get back and sort this mess out." Ronon said grabbing John's good arm.

"Okay," he said, just glad they seemed to be okay. He really hoped the stone was charged correctly for their return to Atlantis. He suspected that his clothes and skin would be saturated with highly volatile compound that would spread through the air and contact.

And so it proved, he flew back to a welcoming committee of Doctors Weir and Beckett and a bunch of Marines pointing guns at him. He gladly let Beckett fuss over him as that would help spread the awareness. It was like someone peeling back a grubby layer of plastic to reveal clear glass underneath. Slowly the people in the Jumper bay blinked and registered Ronon and Teyla at last. John was tired and the last of what energy he'd had was drooping. He really wanted to sleep now, when he'd been unable to before. But he had one last thing to do. They quietly went to Rodney's room.

"Hey Rodney?" John touched his arm and Rodney snuffled and one eye opened

"Wah?"

"It's okay, I brought your pebble back. I went for a walk with it. I think everything will be okay now."

"Nrrgh."

They waited a moment, and suddenly Rodney woke up a bit more. "Why are you guys in my room? What's up? Something wrong? Are you okay Sheppard?"

"I'll be fine, Ronon can tuck me in after we've escorted Teyla back to her room."

"Whatever." And he was out again.

It turned out that Beckett wanted to ensure there were no problems with being in the stasis pod, so he insisted that they stay what was left of the night in the infirmary. They readily agreed, wanting to be together again.

For the first time in a many days Sheppard slept through til morning when he was greeted with breakfast with all of his team round the bed. Today was going to be a good day.

END

**Prompt**: Drufan wanted Smart!Sheppard saving the day while injured. Team interaction/presence. Set on Atlantis, off world or on ship and can include secondary characters- Lorne Zelenka etc. I hope this ticks most of the boxes and makes sense. It's been a real struggle to write and may be a bit long winded.


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